Addiction
by desertwolf4
Summary: Sam's going through withdrawal and finds out how exactly Dean has been trying to help him.


**Author's Note:** Wrote this for a prompt on dA for one of the like six Supernatural groups I'm a member of. This week's prompt was 'addiction' so this is what I came up with. If I got facts wrong or if this wouldn't work in reality, I don't care, I'm happy with how this came out.

Enjoy!

**Warning this story involves both addiction.**

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His hands were shaking, he couldn't see straight; he needed it so badly but he was out, and there was nothing he could do about it. He, Sam Winchester, was not about to ask Dean for help, not after what happened before with his brother. In the back of his mind he knew that Dean could see what was going on, that he was recognizing the signs what with Dean hovering over him with worry and a small hint of fear dancing in his eyes. It was the fear that hurt Sam the most, even if it was simply Dean fearing for his little brother.

Yet as he sat there alone a panic was fluttering through Sam, he could vividly remember what happened last time that he had gone through something like this and it had been anything but pleasant. It had been a week since he last had some and Sam was not looking forward to what would come if he did not get his fix, his need satisfied soon. Each time he thought about what he needed it felt as if he was betraying the trust that Dean had in him, as if each thought was a separate stake driving between their relationship; that it would pry them apart no matter how close they were.

A soft, shuddering sigh passed over Sam's lips as he glanced around the room, trying to find something, anything to distract him from his current situation. He could watch TV, take a hot relaxing shower, sleep… All three sounded good, but the shower won out in the end as Sam made his way into the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as he could stand it. Once he was out of his clothes, he got in the shower, letting the hot water run down over his body.

The tension in his muscles left, but when Sam glanced at his hands they were still lightly shaking, and he cursed under his breath. He did not want his brother to see how his hands quivered when he held them out and there was no way that Dean would not notice it. It made him unable to fight properly, hold a gun, and Dean would definitely notice that.

"Hey Sam, you in there?"

Sam's head snapped up, the bathroom filled with steam. When had Dean gotten back? It must had been in the past several minutes, Sam was surprised he hadn't noticed his brother arrive, although he was in the shower. "Yeah I'm in here Dean," Sam called out of the shower to his brother, and no response came from Dean. Sam figured that must have been good enough for his big brother so he just shrugged it off. He was out and dried off in a matter of seconds, with the towel around his waist he went out of the bathroom and back into the motel room.

Dean was on his bed, laptop in his lap, looking at whatever was on the screen rather intently. Sam, as curious as he was to see what Dean was looking at, instead quickly got dressed before he used the towel to dry off his hair. "What…are you looking at?" Sam asked almost hesitantly, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at Dean.

"Just research Sammy," Dean muttered, with a glance up at his younger brother. Sam watched his Dean's eyes shifted from his face down to his hands, which were shaking again. "How long has it been Sam?" The dead serious tone in Dean's voice made Sam's heart race, the panic returning.

He blinked his eyes trying to regain focus in his eyes as his vision began to blur again. "A week," Sam said in a small quiet voice, feeling the shame well up in his chest as he glanced away from his brother. The distinct sound of the laptop clicking closed caught Sam's attention and he glanced at his brother, now seeing the glint of a knife blade in his hand. "Dean?"

"It's been longer than a week," Dean said, his grip on the knife blade tightening as he spoke. Dean looked up and met Sam's confused gaze, a frown gracing his little brother's lips. "Longer than a week. You just ran out of blood. You have been off the demon stuff for almost a month now."

"I…what?" Sam asked confused. What the hell was Dean talking about? How could he possibly have not been drinking demon blood? There had definitely been blood in his flask, but how… "How?"

"Been adding regular blood to the demon blood, added more and more human blood over time till it was pure human. You ran out of human blood not demon blood Sam," Dean explained, hoping that his little brother would understand. Dean gripped his arm, the movement catching Sam's attention for a split second, glancing at his brother's arm.

"You didn't…"

Sam watched, managing to focus his gaze on Dean's arm as his brother rolled up his sleeve to reveal the bandage on his forearm. "I wasn't about to rob some blood bank, it was the easiest and quickest way."

"Dean you…"

"Shouldn't have? Sam," Dean said and moved closer to his little brother, pulling Sam fully onto the bed before he looked into Sam's puppy like eyes. "You are my brother and I love you. I'd do anything for you Sammy." Sam's eyes traveled to the knife in Dean's hand, and back to his face. "Even if it means I get hurt in the process."

"I won't…" Sam said even as he watched Dean press the blade to his skin. "I won't do it." The thin line of blood seeped up from around the blade, the silver suddenly tinted ruby red with his brother's blood.

"It's been helping Sam, don't argue just do it," Dean said then sighed at the look of doubt on his face. "Placebo Sammy, something I learned from you. If you think you need it you'll feel the effects, while it does nothing to actually help. Sam please, just trust me."

After a moment Sam nodded and allowed Dean to pull him close so that Sam's back was pressed against to Dean's chest, sitting in between his brother's legs. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam the knife still in hand, as he pressed harder against the small cut. Blood began to flow from the wound, staining Dean's skin red.

Sam's eyes fixed on the blood coming from the wound as he brought Dean's arm close to his mouth. With a quick glance at Dean, and a nod from his brother Sam looked back at his arm, eyes falling shut. Slowly, cautiously, Sam sealed his lips around the wound, his tongue licking at the blood. The coppery taste sent a tingle down Sam's spine, a rush of energy through his body. Dean was right…

He drank from the wound for a minute, and then he pulled back, opening to see the small bruise starting to form around the wound. Sam ran his thumb over the cut; his vision no longer blurry and his hands had stopped shaking. He leaned back against Dean, his brother wrapping an arm around Sam's chest, holding him close. "Thanks Dean," Sam whispered, resting his head on Dean's shoulder.

"You'll get through this Sam," Dean said softly, placing an affectionate kiss to the top of his little brother's head. "I promise you will."

Sam closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax in his brother's embrace. For the first time in several weeks Sam was sure that he would be okay and that he would get through the addiction and need he would feel growing inside him. So long as Dean was there to help him, Sam was certain that he would be all right and that he would be able to do anything. And Sam knew that Dean would save him, even from himself.

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**Reviews are loved**


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